We Are MEN!
by ZucchiniBiscuits
Summary: "Well, aside from the Disney playlist the authoress won't stop playing- because honestly, "The Plagues" is getting old- and the endless attacks on the fourth wall, It's nice... Though I could do without the dripping candle wax..." CAUTION: Do not read. :I


**I'm not going to lie. This has been creeping my laptop for almost two years, since Genocidallove(One of my first accounts on FF. net- and if you didn't know, I have like... Seven old accounts.) It's a story I wrote while on crack, apparently, because the gist I believe was either going to be RETARD!Harry, or Naughty!Harry. Either way, he turned out kind of questionable, didn't he?**

**I wrote to the line "...leaving the boy to wonder what just happened."**

**The rest is written recently, just to finish this little driblet and see what appears.**

**I'd also like to inform you that this entire author's note has a British accent, and that I do not, nor will I ever, own the wonderful world of Harry Potter. That honor goes to my fellow Hufflepuff, Jo.**

Minerva almost grinned as she crept toward the end of the list of first years. Impatient whispers started humming upward from the croud, most of the school already knowing that Harry Potter was among them. The excitement induced by being in the same room, even, with the Boy Who Lived kept a steady drum of "Where is he?" "He's here, right?" "I want to meet him!".

"Potter, Harry."

All eyes turned to the boy making his way up toward the platform, and almost immediately, the humming stopped. Harry wasn't anything like they had immagined.

Harry Potter was tall. Not overly so, but a good 5'7" for an 11 year old. His black hair was doused with burned strands and green smudged throughout, as if he had done it himself one night in rage. His face was already the distinct angular of a teenager, accentuating his sharp but soft green eyes. He walked like he was in charge.

Harry sat down on the stool, looking right at Mcgonagall. The old woman placed the hat on his head and stood back, waiting.

"Ah... Mr. Potter. I was wondering when I would sort you."

"Really? You must be so relieved that you get to stop wondering, hm?"

"Of course..." He murmured, and Harry felt a small tug on his conscious. He grimaced, but let the hat go on, knowing it would do little to fight back. He preoccupied himself by humming.

"This is strange, boy... I haven't a clue where to place you! Well, I take that back. Obviously not a Gryffindor, you wouldn't know loyalty if it kicked you in the arse... Hufflepuff is certainly a no. Fairplay has to be a foreign concpet to you... The only houses left are Ravenclaw and Slytherin."

Harry giggled, startling the students eagerly awaiting his sorting. "Mr. Hat, as lovely as this is... My bum is starting to get sore."

"Very well... It'll have to be... SLYTHERIN!"

Harry picked himself and threw the hat back onto the stool, rubbing his bum gingerly. He glanced around and found his table, walking over and plopping right next to a coloured boy who looked at him as if he were daft. He just grinned and shook the boy's hand.

"Evening."

With that out of the way, he turned his self to face the front table, leaving the boy to wonder what had just happened.

The hums of confusion had gone on long through the rest of the sorting, leaving some of the first years who were surely muggleborn to wonder why in the world a random kid had caused such an uproar. Harry had JUST been getting to know a snotty blond kid when an old throat cleared itself, and demanded the room's attention through sweet eyes and a kind smile.

"I have often dreamed of a far off place where a great, warm welcome would be waiting for me... Where the crowds would cheer when they see my face, and a voice kept saying 'This is where I'm meant to be!"

"You'll be there some day, you can go the distance! You will find your way, if you can be strong. You know every mile will be worth your while... You can go the distance and be riiiight where yoooouuu... BELLOOOOOONG!"

Cheers erupted at the wondrous speech, a tear gathering in the corner of nearly every professor's eye.

"Though to look beyond the glory is the hardest part! For a hero's strength is measured... by his heart." He looked straight at Harry when he said those words, and the preteen just snickered and picked his nose.

"You can search the world, and face it all... Until you find your hero's welcome waiting in... some arms." He coughed out the last part, and sat down with a heavy and graceless thud, the food finally appearing before the students. The blond brat immediately dug in, the authoress listening to Tarzan/Phil Collins-Strangers Like Me as she wrote out the standard "Impressive magic tricks" part that every first year Harry story has.

dlk;34 f Her cat stepped on the keyboard, and she decided to leave it in the story.

"So, Potter, How do you like Hogwarts?" The coloured kid asked.

"Well, aside from the Disney playlist the authoress won't stop playing- because honestly, "The Plagues" is getting old- and the endless attacks on the fourth wall, and the fact that she keeps stopping to sing along and every few seconds a new song is playing, it's really nice here. Though, I've gotten mild burns from all of the wax falling from these candles."

"Yeah, that can be sort of the worst bitch when eating," The blond kid grinned, delicately forking a small pile of pork. The double-meaning in that thought cause Harry to giggle.

and then everyone had sex. OH CHRIST. WHAT A STORY.

Because SEX SELLS.

Harry, you whore.

**Anyway, bored, lazy authoress is bored and lazy. So catch you laters.**

**It's kind of sad that this is my second fic on this account, and it's so careless and terrible :D**

**REVIEW!**

**-ZucchiniBiscuits**


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